a year in my life, gossip

Late Night Thursday: Snotty Emails Do NOT Equal Luxury

THURSDAY, 5 NOVEMBER 2015 —

Last night was intense at the wine bar! Chris was working all alone.  He had one busy night! I was so proud of him! He was on fire! He waited on tables, gave wine recommendations, made mixed drinks, martinis and even made meat and cheese boards for people to nosh on while they enjoyed their visit.  Chris has been in kick-ass mode the last three weeks or so and I couldn’t be more pleased.  I do feel guilty though like a helicopter mom sitting at the bar watching him.  I get a rush watching him bartend because deep down I wanted to be a bartender.  It was my dream job… no joke! I always wanted to moon light as a bartender. In a crazy way, I live vicariously through Chris watching him.  The older women get googly eyes asking him for drinks.  I love to see that! I sit at the bar and sip my vodka and sneer.  I sneer because they get twitterpated over a gay man and his boyfriend is at the bar watching THEM get twitterpated.  It’s funny that women over 40 are the ones that look and act like me when I’m around my bubs.  Hands off, ladies! 

I’ve been daydreaming about the fact that one day I will expand Rockstars + Lambs into a larger salon.  Today I received an email from a brand manager at Oribe. I had expressed interest in carrying their products and they sent me back a snotty email about how “small” salons (like mine) aren’t usually able to keep up with the monthly minimum they require to stock their product.  They told me that if Oribe products were too hard to stock or too high of a monthly quota that their sister company R+Co also had a minimum ($600 less). I sent back an email that said, “I understand your assumption that small salons can’t sustain those numbers and figured as much when I contacted your company.  Maybe I’ll approach you when I expand”.  Let me tell you all this: no I won’t.  They can fuck themselves.  I didn’t realize their products were made of fucking gold.  Fuck you, guys.  My clients don’t need your pretentious products.  As someone who has worked corporately for a couple of brands,  I can read between the lines.  You’re a bunch of assholes that forgot where they came from…you all probably never worked in a salon before.

On the way to the wine bar tonight, I was carrying a commission for Chris in my wallet. He has been kicking ass in the salon.  The man is a hustler: he bar tends at night at two different bars and preps at one of them a couple days a week and works at the salon in between. I remember going to beauty school, apprenticing and working full-time.  I would do ANYTHING for a buck!  People used to (figuratively) spit in my face telling me I wouldn’t make it.  I look back at all those thoughts sometimes when I’m sitting at the bar sipping vodka and looking at my checkbook balance and think “what a bunch of dumb bitches.” As I read the email from the luxury brand manager today, I thought of all those twats that told me I  wouldn’t make it and smile.  I look at Chris from the other side of the bar and I can’t wait to be having dinner with him in ten years and talking about how all the naysayers are licking our boots.  One day they’ll all swallow their tongues in shock. As of now, keep sending me nasty, snotty emails and keep getting in my bubs’ way.  You’re nothing if you keep someone else down.  I REPEAT: NOTHING, dahling! 

As I walked home in the cold, I was thinking about how hard Chris and I both work.  I have achieved a whole different echelon of my career by taking on two stylists in my salon.  For once, I have relinquished control in my business.  I have subconsciously told the public that I can’t handle the demand of the salon and that I AM ready to share the wealth with others I find talented in the industry.  That takes a lot, I will admit.  Snotty emails from beauty brands don’t discourage me, they make me realize that they have NO IDEA what its like to run an actual salon or have a dream.  They’re too busy pushing people out before they have even started a connection. I never want to be like that.

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